


red

by alexjulies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, blood & torture cw, season 3a au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjulies/pseuds/alexjulies
Summary: the sun is just starting to crest over the horizon when it all ends."so this is your human?" kali asks, dragging her fingers over the line of derek's shoulders as she circles him. "this pale, honey-eyed boy is the one that you're going to end up dying to save, is that right?"derek doesn't say a word. because if kali is talking, she isn't paying attention to stiles.and stiles is moving.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 190





	red

**Author's Note:**

> repost from my years-old blogging days as youshinebrighter21 & a few others.
> 
> 3a au. includes depictions of violence. minor character deaths (kali & deucalion). 
> 
> follow me on tumblr @ asexuhale

the sun is just starting to crest over the horizon when it all ends.

"so this is your human?" kali asks, dragging her fingers over the line of derek's shoulders as she circles him. "this pale, honey-eyed boy is the one that you're going to end up dying to save, is that right?"

derek watches deucalion as his claws slice through stiles' skin again, his fangs piercing his bottom lip as he growls and fights against the chains they have him in. he's only rewarded with another shot of electricity through his middle and stiles' weak voice telling him to "...stop fucking _fighting_ , derek."

"is he really worth it, derek?" kali asks, grinning wickedly as she crouches to squat in front of him. she twists to look at where stiles is flat on the floor behind her, the pale skin of his back and arms adorned with thin strips of red from where deucalion's claws have mercilessly cut him open. "because he looks weak to me. he _sounds_ weak to me. not much of a fighter."

derek smirks. "you don't know stiles."

"no," kali acquiesces, shrugging her shoulders as she meets derek's eyes again. "and what a shame that is. you seem to be quite fond of him, though it's difficult to see why. he's just a human, derek. his strength is nowhere near what your betas have. oh, _wait_."

kali grins and derek's eyes burn a bright, bloodthirsty red. "you don't _know_ him."

deucalion steps away from stiles and derek breathes out a grateful sigh, eyes falling shut as he keeps the pace of his heart as even as he can manage.

"you've lost so many already, derek," kali hums, and derek can feel the prick of deucalion's claws into his skin. blood clots on his arm before the wound heals; bright red against the deep, crusted red dried on deucalion's hands from stiles' blood.

derek opens his eyes, but keeps them down.

"you've lost your family. your betas. well, you have the one, but he's more interested in the omega, right? is that how it works? tell me, derek, how does it feel to be an alpha that's subordinate to an _omega_?"

_scott isn't an omega,_ derek thinks, but he doesn't say a word.

because if kali is talking and deucalion is running his claws through derek's skin, they aren't paying attention to stiles.

and stiles is _moving_.

it had taken days. days for stiles to learn to control the motions of his body enough to make them silent. to make them deadly even in the presence of a group of alphas.

arrogance is something derek knows well, but _pride_ is what floods through him when stiles manages to stab deucalion with the knife he'd dropped hours before.

a knife covered in crushed wolfsbane from the capsule hidden beneath stiles' tongue.

deucalion cries out in pain, falling backwards and twisting to get to stiles, but stiles is already behind derek. he kills the electricity that kali has derek hooked to, ripping the wires from derek's side before breathing out a soft, "go."

derek shifts and the chains around his wrists and ankles fall to the ground when he lunges for deucalion.

deucalion's claws are still covered in stiles' blood, and derek wastes no time at all in covering his own with deucalion's blood. he's weakened by the wound in his back, derek knows, but he's still alive and that isn't _okay._ not when stiles is covered in red marks that will turn into scars.

scars that derek is responsible for.

deucalion's dead within seconds.

when derek turns, he sees a grinning stiles straddling kali. derek realizes the wires are pressed to her side and the electricity is just short of the frequency it needs to be to kill her.

"still think i'm weak?" stiles asks, tightening his hands around kali's wrists above her head.

kali spits out, "you won't do it. you may have stabbed duke, but you didn't finish him off. you didn't kill him. just like you won't kill me."

derek can't help but grin when stiles looks over at him and shrugs. "well, i mean, she has a point, derek. i didn't kill him."

"she's scared of you," derek replies, listening as kali's heart skips in her chest.

stiles shrugs again. "i don't know why. i'm not much of a fighter."

derek holds the knife out for stiles to take, grinning down at kali as he says, "i told you. you don't know stiles."

"shame," stiles sighs, taking the knife from derek's hand. he drags it across kali's throat, tickling her skin as he whispers, "you could have been just as fond of me, kali. but you won't have the chance. you know why?"

she doesn't answer, but stiles continues anyway.

"because i'm smart. i'm stronger than you think."

this time, stiles applies pressure behind the blade, dragging it across kali's throat and leaning down as she chokes on her own blood. he rasps, "and i'm gonna be the one that kills you."

her eyes are already losing the light behind them when stiles readjusts his grip on the knife and drives it through her gut. after her last breath, he stands up, swaying on his feet until derek catches him.

they stand like that for a moment, looking at the carnage around them, before stiles gently shrugs off derek's hands. "can't look at this anymore. let's go."

derek watches as stiles leaves the warehouse, his hands shaking against his sides. in the light of the sunrise, he can see the cuts on stiles' back, several of them still bleeding slowly. 

he pauses for only a moment outside the warehouse to catch his breath, hating how overwhelming the scent of stiles' blood is despite the dead wolves behind him.

//

"i should take you to a hospital," derek says, hands tight around the steering wheel.

stiles shakes his head, wincing when derek drives over another bump. "m'fine. the cuts aren't deep enough for stiches. he was just doing it to fuck with you, not to kill me."

"they could give you pain meds."

"i don't need them," stiles grumbles, sitting forward so his back won't press against the seat. "just take me home."

derek huffs out a breath and lifts his foot from the gas pedal, waiting a moment before he argues, "you lost a lot of blood."

"take. me. home."

the rest of the drive is silent aside from the sharp inhales or quiet groans that sound from stiles' throat whenever derek takes a curve too fast. the early morning sunlight cascades across stiles' shoulders and over the line of his jaw, but it's the way that light is reflected in stiles' eyes - kali wasn't wrong when she stated that stiles was honey-eyed and derek _hates_ her for being right about that - that has derek glancing over to study stiles' profile every few minutes.

derek worries the inside of his bottom lip with his teeth for a few minutes after he pulls into stiles' driveway before he asks, "can i at least help you wash the blood off? it'll hurt worse if you try to do it yourself."

stiles just _looks_ at him, but derek can only meet his gaze for a second.

"yeah," stiles eventually answers. "but no funny business. keep your hands off my ass, hale."

derek quietly responds, "no promises," but stiles is already up and out of the car.

//

when stiles opens the door to the bathroom, derek awkwardly stands in the hallway until stiles smirks a little and asks, "are you gonna watch me undress? cause i'm already half-naked, dude. not a whole lot to see."

derek pretends he isn't blushing and turns around.

the faucet squeaks when stiles turns it, water pouring out to fill the tub as derek listens to the soft thud of stiles' pants hitting the floor. there's a long moment where stiles is just waiting on the tub to fill up and derek's waiting on his heart to stop thumping so damn hard, but it passes the second derek hears stiles hiss in pain.

"what?" he asks, whirling around and stepping into the bathroom. "are you alright?"

stiles tosses derek an amused little grin, rolling his shoulder as he softly replies, "cracked my neck and it pulled on some of the cuts. m'okay, derek. would you calm the fuck down, please?"

and derek wants to - christ, he _wants_ to, but the scent of stiles' blood is still thick in the back of his throat. he'd never had a doubt that stiles would be able to take care of himself because derek taught him. derek _trained_ him and fuck if stiles didn't surprise him in every possible way.

but stiles' blood was never meant to stain the floor of a warehouse red and his skin was never meant to be lined with this many scars.

it's only when stiles clears his throat that derek realizes stiles is seated in the bathtub, legs crossed so he can sit as close to the faucet as possible. derek swallows, dropping his gaze to the floor as he raises a hand to the back of his neck and quietly asks, "washcloths?"

"cabinet," stiles answers softly. "underneath the sink."

derek nods, bending to grab a couple before sitting on the edge of the bathtub behind stiles. the sight of claw marks, jagged and crimson across the expanse of stiles' back, makes derek sick to his stomach. he dips the washcloth in the water and hesitantly raises it to stiles' shoulders.

"i'm sorry," derek whispers, and he doesn't know if he's apologizing for the sting of the water as it cascades across the cuts or the fact that stiles is wrapped up in all of this. thinks it's probably a combination of both.

stiles breathes out a soft noise with the first press of the washcloth to his back, but he doesn't say anything in response. just inhales deeply when derek dips the cloth again and applies a little more pressure this time to rinse the blood from stiles' skin.

"i'll probably have to explain this to my dad the next time he sees me in swim trunks or something, huh?" stiles asks, body instinctively jerking away from the press of derek's hand when he scrubs over one of the fresher cuts.

derek rests his other hand against stiles' shoulder, veins darkening in his wrist as he takes the pain from stiles' body and answers, "probably, yeah. the cuts aren't deep, but they'll definitely scar."

"any chance you wanna give me the bite, then?" stiles asks, and derek knows he's teasing, but there's a hint of curiosity there underneath everything else.

derek wets the cloth again, ignoring the way the water pinks up with stiles' blood, and answers, "you don't need it."

"kali seemed to think so," stiles says, and derek hears the note of self-deprecation long before stiles has a chance to cover it up.

"you're stronger than you give yourself credit for, stiles. i didn't doubt you for a second in there, you know that? you _do_ know that, don't you?"

derek's relieved to find that stiles' back doesn't look so angry and mutilated when the caked blood is rinsed away, but his stomach rolls again anyway when stiles quietly mutters, "saving me isn't worth dying over. kali was right about that."

for a moment, derek thinks about pretending he didn't hear stiles, but it's a stupid thought and stiles would absolutely call him out on it.

"you're worth everything," derek replies. his voice barely sounds at all, but the way that stiles' shoulders stiffen make it clear that he heard, anyway.

stiles keeps his head down as derek stands from the edge of the tub to grab the wound cleanser from the sink, twisting his hands together in the water where they're resting on top of his crossed legs. derek sits back down and presses his hand against stiles' shoulder again, waiting until the pain in stiles' body is a muted hum before pouring the cleanser over his skin.

"thank you," stiles whispers, and derek doesn't know if he's grateful for the help in cleaning his cuts or the words that derek means with every cell of his body.

thinks it's probably a combination of both.


End file.
